


Road trip and bullet wound

by kaige68



Series: Passports and Bacon [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Community: 1_million_words, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov brings McCoy back to Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road trip and bullet wound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatwasJustaDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/gifts), [haldoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldoor/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Passports and bacon.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216537) by [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68). 
  * Inspired by [Passports and bacon.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216537) by [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68). 
  * Inspired by [Passports and bacon.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216537) by [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68). 



> This takes place in the same world and immediately after [Passports and bacon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5216537). That probably should be read first for this to make sense.
> 
> Massive thanks to AsphaltCowGrrl for the read-thru, all remaining errors are due to my own stubbornness.

“Don’t be pushy.” McCoy told him outside the non-descript electronic repair shop. “And whatever you do, don’t mention Jim.”

“Why not?” The kid asked, shouldering the backpack that held the luger. They’d dropped the silencer in the river and had hit up McCoy’s bus locker for money and the change of clothes in a carry on. Pavel had chuckled at two pairs of underwear along with the toothbrush and paste. McCoy hadn’t found Chekov funny when he asked about the lack of floss.

“He get’s tetchy when you mention Jim. They used to be close…”

“But not any more?”

“Don’t know if you’ve had the opportunity to notice, but the man who likes to call himself ‘captain’ has a habit of acting first and thinking later.”

“Kirk is a smart man.”

“Don’t ever doubt it. But he’s a rampaging rhino in a china shop sometimes.”

“Is that why you left him too?”

“You should have asked him that before you took the job to bring me back.” McCoy opened the door and shook his head at Pavel again as if to say _Don’t mention Jim_ , again.”

The bell over the entrance jingled and a voice called out from the back that he’d be right with them.

Pavel’s eyes went wide when he recognized the Glaswegian accent. “This is Scotty. THE Scotty! Who dumped the explosives out of the ship, blowing up the evidence and letting Kirk and the crew get away?!”

“What did I just say to you?” McCoy heaved a sigh.

“Sorry, ‘bout that.” The shop owner came out from the back room wiping his hands. “Was having lunch and it was a sandwich of-” He stopped when he looked over his customers. “Bones. It’s like a time warp. You keep getting older and your toys keep getting younger.” He laughed at his own joke, Pavel chuckled as well.

“We need papers, Scotty.” Was the only thing McCoy said as he handed over a wad of cash.

 

*~*

 

Chekov arched off the bed. Hips thrusting up as McCoy sucked him down. He’d spent the better part of a half an hour taking the former doctor apart, and now he was getting his payback. He liked payback. Especially when he could feel his cock hitting the back of payback’s throat. He came a minute later pulling McCoy’s hair and shouting Russian curse words.

“Do you think we will catch something from the sheets here?” Chekov asked when he could speak again.

McCoy pulled the covers up over them, not wanting to think about the probability of a yes answer to that question.

“My place was much nicer than this.” Chekov pulled himself in tighter to McCoy’s chest.

“My place was nicer than this.” And that had been a fleabag motel as well.

“Won’t they think of looking for us in a place like this?”

“Me? Yeah, but not you. We …” Hell they didn’t know who had been in Chekov’s place. They didn’t even know if there was anyone after them. It was just the sort of thing that one assumed when one traveled in circles where you came home to find your secret gun safe emptied and a strange Luger in your nightstand.

Chekov mumbled something against McCoy’s skin, and McCoy reached back to turn out the light. 

“Scotty will have the papers done tomorrow. We’ll head south then east and when we hit the coast, we’ll stay in someplace nicer.”

“Someplace with room service?”

“I was thinking someplace where we don’t have to share a bathroom.”

“Bitch.” Chekov grumbled.

McCoy smiled and settled in to fall asleep.

 

*~*

 

Well, it was certain now. Someone was after them. 

McCoy pressed down on the hole in his thigh with one hand while he aimed the Luger and fired with the other. Chekov calmly hotwired the car, the first one that they found unlocked. The car sputtered to life and off they went.

“Circle around. Head south. Try to lose them.” McCoy reached back and began rummaging through the bags they’d had with them. 

“I know this!” Pavel shouted, accent heavy.

McCoy let the kid do what he could. Despite the situation, he felt oddly secure with Chekov stealing them away to safety. He cut a larger hole in his jeans, folded a clean t-shirt up and secured it in place with a tie. McCoy had no idea why Chekov had packed a tie, but he wasn’t going to question it then, when it was the thing that would likely save his life.

They drove through the city, past the limits and kept heading south. McCoy thought the landscape was a black blur until he was woken up in a parking lot. 

“There is nothing open. This was all I could find. Joe here was nice enough to sell it to us.” Chekov was crouched down next to the open passenger door of the car. A very dirty man who was missing quite a few teeth smiled at McCoy over Pavel’s shoulder.

“What is it?” McCoy eyed the bottle.

Chekov slowly untied the tie. There was another t-shirt folded and waiting on McCoy’s uninjured thigh. McCoy eyed the hole when the bloody shirt was moved. It looked as good as a gunshot wound should he supposed.

“Love Potion #9.” Chekov held up the bottle of clear alcohol and began pouring it over the injury. 

McCoy’s protests about the antiseptic were cut off by his swearing.

 

*~*

 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t die on me, old man.” Chekov’s hand was on the motel room door knob but he smiled back at McCoy.

“I’m not gonna die on you. Jeeze. The bleeding’s almost stopped. Just get the stuff on the list, go to two-” 

“Two different stores. I know. I will be right back. Don’t move.”

McCoy just waved him off. Once he heard Chekov’s quick steps on the metal stairs he stood up and dropped his pants, careful of the makeshift bandage underneath. They’d changed the dressing a few times, changed McCoy’s pants so he could limp into the motel room without suspicion. He grabbed the cleanest looking of the towels from the bathroom and placed it on the bedspread. Then he climbed on and waited.

They’d used up the majority of the _Love Potion_ during their trip. McCoy worried about scraggly Joe, because it was closer to rubbing alcohol than vodka. 

Chekov came back quicker than McCoy would have thought, but he had everything. McCoy watched him clean everything, scrub his own hands, then put on thin gloves. He wanted to try to remove the bullet himself but Chekov was having none of it. In a very short time, the projectile was out and McCoy was swearing at the antiseptic again. There were small neat stitches, and then clean gauze and tape.

And damn if it wasn’t the sexiest thing McCoy had ever seen. “Come here and give me a kiss.” He pulled at Chekov’s hand.

Chekov cleaned up the materials he’d used, then stretched out on the bed next to his patient. “You want a kiss?”

McCoy reached for him.

“Any kiss?”

McCoy shifted closer.

“This kiss?”

McCoy groaned against Chekov’s mouth.

 

*~*

 

“I’ve never seen the sun set in the east.” McCoy’s tone was drole. He wasn’t keen on heading west, but he also wasn’t driving. 

“And you still haven’t.” Chekov flipped the driver’s side visor down and kept staring at the road.

“I thought I told you to head east. We can sit on a beach for a few days.”

“You said that. I never agreed.”

“Damn it! I’ve been avoiding Jim for years. I like that streak. I’d like to keep it up.”

Chekov sighed. “You know he asked me to come and get you. Where did you think we would end up?”

“Do you know when the last time I was shot at was?”

“Tuesday?” Chekov still didn’t turn from the road. 

McCoy just grunted. 

The last time he’d been shot at he was with Jim. Jim and Spock and the whole rest of Jim’s crew. Bones had stayed with them until they were away from the heat. He’d patched up Uhura, and then he’d calmly packed his shit and left. No note, no discussion, Jim sure as hell knew why he’d bailed. 

He’d never be a surgeon again. That was his own fault, he knew that. But chasing after Jim Kirk and his band of merry thieves was not the second choice he wanted to follow.

And yet, there he was, former doctor Leonard McCoy, sitting calmly in the front seat of the cheapest car they could get in a state that let it’s dealerships issue license plates. And he’d happily sat in the passenger seat through three stolen vehicles until they got to the Honda. What was the matter with him? 

Sure the sex was great. The sex was incredible. McCoy had been sex stupid before, it had gotten him married. But he wasn’t twenty-three anymore. He wasn’t tagging along because of the sex. But since he’d woken up in Pavel’s apartment he’d been a willing participant. He hadn’t panicked at the gun, cash, and passports. He got the kid’s need to get the hell out of there, and he’d willingly gone.

Willingly gone.

Maybe he was sex stupid. He trusted Chekov. Trusted him like he hadn’t trusted anyone since his childhood dog. 

“Wherever you will go.” McCoy muttered and eased the seatback down a little.

 

*~*

 

“They said he’s changed since you were with him.”

The car ride west had been quiet for a while. McCoy had let his mind wander when Chekov’s words brought him sharply back.

“They?”

“Nyota. Spock implies it but doesn’t say-”

“No, he wouldn’t say anything behind Jim’s back. To his face definitely, but not behind his back.”

There was silence again for a mile or so before… “They say he’s more careful. Cautious.”

“That doesn’t sound like Jim Kirk at all.” McCoy chuckled. Jim was brash. He didn’t go off half-cocked, but he was not cautious. 

“That’s why I say this. He lost Olsen and two others on a job. It was before me, so I don’t know all of it. Pike was injured, he won’t walk again.”

“Son of a...” McCoy stared out the window. “He blames me?”

“Why would he… No, he blames himself. Not having a doctor on staff is not-”

“On staff? Like he’s a legitimate organization.” McCoy snorted at the thought.

Chekov smiled and shook his head. “He would never. But we hear stories, romanticized tales of the jobs that you ran when the crew was small. The Kirk in those stories is not the Kirk that runs our jobs now.”

“How big is the crew now?” 

“Fifteen. And there are others that he calls in for different tasks. I think you don’t know many of them.” 

“This is not the life I want.” McCoy started back out the window.

“We have a boat now.”

“Let me guess,” McCoy’s voice got a little snide. “The Enterprise?”

Chekov laughed, throwing off his passenger’s cynicism. “Of course. And there is great pride at being on the crew of The Enterprise.” Chekov’s new burner phone beeped with a text. He handed the phone to McCoy to read.

“ _Have you got the package?_ I assume that’s me?”

“Yeah.” Checkov watched as McCoy typed a response in his periphery. The phone beeped a minute later.

“ _How long until delivery?_ ” McCoy read.

“That is your call Leonard.”

“Yeah, yeah. I can get out of the car anytime I want. I know.”

There was a pause for another mile or so where McCoy neither spoke nor texted. 

“He’ll call if we don’t respond.”

“We’ve got less than a day of driving to get to LA, but what about a small detour? Nice hotel, warm ocean breezes, salty drinks? Let me brace myself a little more before …”

Chekov finally turned and smiled brightly at McCoy. “Tell him a few days. I know a place.”

McCoy nodded, feeling relieved and excited as he texted the response.

A moment later he read aloud, “ _Bring it on home._ ”

 

*~*

 

It wasn’t a nice hotel. It was a collection of shacks by the beach. But it was reasonably secluded, and the salty drinks were perfect.

McCoy’s wound was high enough on his leg that the bandage didn’t show under his cargo shorts as he lounged in the shade by the bar. Chekov strode up from the water, intentionally shaking like a dog getting McCoy wet before he grabbed a towel and sank down next to McCoy.

A scantily clad waitress walked by with a beer and lime for Pavel within a minute and McCoy felt suspiciously perfect. 

“When do we have to be in LA?” He reached out from his chair and ran his fingers through Pavel’s wet hair.

“Sunday, for dinner.” 

McCoy chuckled at the odd tradition that Jim insisted on keeping. But Sunday gave them plenty of time. “Do they know where we are?”

“No.” Pavel moved, placing himself in the sand between McCoy’s knees as he looked out at the surf. “This is somewhere only we know.”

“Thank you.” Leonard sat forward, began kneading at Pavel’s shoulders.

Pavel groaned and let his head fall forward. “Don’t thank me yet. You aren’t getting off this easily.”

“But I will be getting off? Right?” McCoy enjoyed the sound of the throaty chuckle he received in response.

“How is your leg?”

“Healing.”

“Good for some strenuous activity?”

“There are a few things I should be able to do without popping a stitch.”

Pavel stood and turned around. He climbed into Leonard's lap facing the man, and then he kissed him long and slow. Long, slow, and full of promise.

 

*~*

 

He felt a poke in his shoulder. McCoy grumbled and tried to roll away. There was another sharp poke followed by a whispered _good morning_ and teeth against his skin.

“Good mornin’” Leonard let his hands pull Pavel closer and spread across the smooth skin of Chekov’s back.

“I like waking up asleep in your arms.” Pavel bit down gently again.

“I’m partial to it myself.” McCoy squeezed a handful of cheek.

“Will we do this when we get to LA?” Chekov sounded small and unsure. “Will you tell them about us?”

McCoy rolled them onto Chekov’s back. He ground his hips against the slighter man, then pulled back to look him in the eye. “I think they’ll notice. I’m not the sort to kiss and tell, but I’ve got nothing to hide. You?”

A thousand emotions flew through Chekov’s eyes as McCoy watched them. He stayed silent until Pavel picked just one. “I want you. For a long time. You have a reputation, though, and they will worry about me.”

“Jim has the reputation, kid, not me.”

Chekov smiled. “Even Scotty said your toys were getting younger.” 

“I’m a healthy adult, not a sequestered priest. They’ve seen me pull at bars between jobs. But those were few and far between. And just because Scotty thinks I have a type… Well, I could have left with a hockey bag and Scotty would have been too sauced to notice.” 

Pavel reached up and touched Leonard’s face, wanting more information but not knowing how to ask.

Leonard kissed him, kissed him hard. When he finally pulled back he went on. “I’ve had three long term relationships, kid. My ex-wife when I was too damn young to know better. And a stripper that I took up with after I left Jim’s crew, that ended almost as ugly as the divorce. Everyone else has been just one night. One hour. I could probably count them if I wanted to.”

“Three?” Pavel smiled.

Leonard thrust his hips forward again, felt strong legs wrap around him. “Lithe Russian kid. Went on a road trip with him.” He surged forward again, basking the the sounds Pavel made. “Looking forward to it turning out better than the other two.”

 

*~*

 

“Give up.” Chekov demanded.

McCoy pushed his hips up as Chekov rode him. McCoy’s hands had been tied to a bedpost and a cock ring held his orgasm at bay. All Chekov wanted was for McCoy to beg. And he’d get his way, eventually But the view was too good, too perfect to give in too quickly.

Pale skin was soaked in sweat as Pavel pistoned himself up and down on Leonard’s trapped cock. He picked at Leonards nipples with evil delight. And when Leonard managed to get his feet flat and push up more, Pavel started saying things that Leonard desperately wanted to get translated into English.

“You feel so good, Leonard. Your fucking cock… Give it to me. Give up. Tell me how bad you need me to let you come.”

Over and over. Leonard pushing up, Pavel slamming down. And all Len would say was ‘Fuck’ and ‘Yeah.” Until Pavel had to take hold of his own cock to hold off for a few more minutes. 

Leonard was going to die at the sight.

“Please. Please, Pavel.”

 

*~*

 

They went out walking after midnight on Sunday morning. Holding hands in the moonlight. Talking.

They talked about Jim. About why Bones had left The Enterprise crew, and about why Chekov thought it was right for Bones to come back now.

They talked about Pavel’s past. About the girl who’d gotten him into the game, used him and tried to sell him out. About how Jim had recognized Chekov’s brilliant mind and brought him in just when he’d been about to make a very bad decision.

Out in the moonlight they held hands, joked, told secrets. They kissed easily and talked some more. 

They talked about the job that Jim was setting up that he’d need them both for. Talked at length.

Then they walked back to the room as the sun came up. They fucked. They packed. They headed to LA.

 

*~*

 

“It’s been years since I’ve been in LA.” McCoy mentioned as they drove.

“Understandable, you’ve been avoiding us.”

“I didn’t realize I was avoiding you.”

Chekov smiled and his phone beeped with another text from Jim. _Be on time for dinner._

McCoy smiled at his text and responded without telling Chekov what he was typing. The reply was immediate. “He called us bitches.” McCoy snicked with unrepentant glee.

“What did you say to him?” Chekov took the last turn into the marina parking lot.

“I told him _Send someone to fetch us, we’re in Saskatchewan._ ” He laughed at his own joke.

They got out of the car with their bags and headed to the docked boats. The Enterprise was bigger than McCoy expected. He should have figured that Jim would have found someplace that would be ‘home’ to his crew.

As soon as they stepped on board there was the booming sound of Jim calling out his name. “Bones!” And then McCoy found himself pulled into the arms of an old friend.


End file.
